Hey there ‘Redheads… Remember, in the last installment, when I told everyone to just get a hold of yourselves, and not give the impending snow an imposing name because it would only serve in blowing everything out of proportion? Well, upon further review… RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!! Ok, nature, we get it. Enough with the cold fluffy death from above. I wasn’t in town for the brunt of it, but I was watching the Georgetown game on ESPN and they kept showing exterior shots of the Verizon Center. 30+ inches in some places. You know it’s a lot of snow when it’s not safe to let midgets roam free. And now, we need to brace ourselves for potentially 20 inches or more. If this next storm maxes out, snowplows aren’t going to cut it. We’re going to need AT-ATs. When nature flexes it’s muscle, why fight it? I think it’s a great chance to appreciate the beauty behind the brute force. This morning I saw where the weight of the snow had brought down a tree on top of a speed camera. Now that’s fuckin‘ beautiful. Clock that, you asshole.

Like I mentioned, I was able to skip town before the area got completely frost bitten. I made it down I-95 to one of my favorite comedy clubs, Cozzy’s in Newport News, VA. I wasn’t able to escape the weather entirely. We got torrential rain, which turned to snow, which turned to ice. No major accumulations, but just enough to make residents lose their minds. In order to keep from going completely stir crazy in my room that didn’t have a functional remote control, I ventured out to the local multiplex. The only thing that was starting when I showed up was Avatar. I wasn’t keen on seeing it, but any port in a storm. I had heard all the reviews… 3-D visuals with a 2-D story. I’ll admit it. The 3-D was pretty cool. A pinata from which an endless stream of eye candy spilled. I’m pretty sure I got eyeabetes. My left eye was a bleary bloodshot mess after mainlining nearly 3 hours of smurftastic special effects. It was not ungood…

Not Cameron’s best, by a long shot, but it will change the way you watch movies…they’ll be more expensive now.

Once the weekend fun was done, I had to make the trek back home. I was moving at a pretty brisk clip, until I reached the rain/snow line near Fredricksburg. I-95 was a caked on mess. It was so pock marked with potholes, you’d think it had been renamed Edward James Olmos highway. The last 40 miles of my trip took roughly 2 hours, but I made it home to find a parking space carved out and my power and heat running. Not only that, but I got home in time to warm my cockles by watching my Terps beat the tar out of North Carolina. Coupled with a great win for the Caps, that would normally be a great sports weekend, but there was still the Super Bowl left to play. I enjoyed the game. It was close, there were some great signature plays, and the Colts lost, so I was happy… The one thing that irked me was the combined point total, and that it wasn’t higher than the age of the band playing halftime. Seriously, The Who have been around longer than the Super Bowl. The ads were ok. Nothing really stood out among the talking babies and the screaming chickens.

After you dig out of the snowverkill, come dig me in Charm City this weekend…Print out this coupon and drinks are on the house…Bask in the warm glow of mild amusement.

Let’s try and get a hold of ourselves, ‘Redheads… Everyone is losing their minds over the impending storm that’s going to make The Shining look like an instructional video. Computer models have shown that the DC Metro area will turn purple on Friday morning. We’re going to get grimaced. People are already predicting that schools will be closed for at least two days after the storm. It’s the Snow-pocalypse!… SNO-MG!… Snow what?, that’s what I say. After the dumping we got a month or snow ago, you’d think we could handle ourselves. That last snow wasn’t measured in inches, it was measured in shit-tons. Everyone made it out just fine. I’d like you guys to help me out with a snowcialogical experiment. After the storm shutters you in for the weekend, I’d like you to keep a record of how much bread you consume, how much milk you guzzle, and your instances of ass-wipage. I’m pretty positive it’s not going to be much more than your average two day consumption. Snow calm the fuck down.

Once again, the snow is picking a fine time to drop in. Just in time to fuck up everyone’s weekend plans. I speak specifically of anyone who has comical obligations on the eastern seaboard. Shows will probably be cancelled and I’m hoping that mine aren’t among them. I’m performing in Newport News, VA this weekend at one of my favorite little clubs, Cozzy’s. The snow is supposed to start falling around 10am on Friday, which is when I’ll be hopping in the car to head south, where birds go to get away from this crap. I blame the groundhog for this. Six more weeks of winter all because some yutz in a top hat held a rodent up with the sun at its back. Maybe Apple can help… I’ll make a sled out of iPads and call it the iDitarod. I wish I could enjoy the snow as much as an eight year old…or Darth Vader, but I got someplace to be and this is a white fluffy pain in my ass. Hey, speaking of Darth Vader…

David Prowse, the British actor who physically played Darth Vader in the original three ‘Star Wars’ films, has announced he’s made a full recovery from prostate cancer.

Hey there ‘Redheads… It appears I’ve fallen back to my familiar blogging tendencies. Two entries by mid-month? For shame. Sorry gang. I’ll try to step it up in the second half. It just occurred to me that this is pretty much the midpoint of the year. Any thoughts? Candor? Reflections? Anecdotes? Remembrances? Recollections? Thesaurus? Confessions?… None? Ok then. Thanks for pitching in. Luckily, I’ve got a couple musings of at least this past weekend that I can share.

Big thanks to my pals at Cozzy’s Comedy Club in Newport News, Va. for yet another funtastic weekend. Sometimes you want to go where everyone knows your name. I’m a big fan of any club who’ll lower their property value by putting my picture on the wall. This time around, I worked with the affable James Sibley. I’m always amazed at how much some audience members want to try to “help” the show. Apparently, while I was on stage for the Friday show, a lady patron approached James and offered him a joke book for him to leaf through and pick out a couple gems for his set. He politely declined, but this miffed her something terrific. She sat, arms folded, with a frown etched on her face for the first ten minutes of his act, before she realized that everyone else was laughing at his original material, and she finally gave way. Once she heard that none of his bits started with, “Knock knock.” I know it’s tough, people, but please leave the comedy to the professionals. We get paid for a reason…a nebulous reason, but a reason nonetheless. While his portion of the show was going on, I sat at the bar and took a peek at the muted sports on the TV. I spotted two new names to add to my list of quirky favorites. Just to let you know, my birthday is fast approaching, so a perfect gift would be the jersey of Philadelphia Phillies pitcher, Antonio Bastardo. Or maybe New York Mets pitcher, J.J. Putz. Fitting, any way you slice it.

A couple other things I spotted during my trip to Newport News. On Rte. 64, I saw a girl driving a car, with her foot sticking out of the driver’s side window. I guess they were holding Cirque duSoleil tryouts or something. There is nothing quite like the open road, with the radio cranked up, and the wind whistling between your toes. I also saw an ice cream truck that had a peculiar word of warning on the back of it. It read, “Don’t skid on the kids.” Which implies, don’t bother watching out for nearby children, as long as you have good traction.

On my Saturday, I found myself at a massive local area flea market. This place had just about every used chotchke you could think of. I stumbled on one vendor who specialized in old video game systems. This guy had them all, from Atari to Dreamcast to old school Nintendo. I got pounded by a wave of nostalgia. I found myself trying to figure out how much my childhood was worth. I wasn’t going to take much of a nudge to send me tumbling down the rabbit hole in my head and into that magical time when Donkey Kong and Pac-Man could quell my fledgling ADD. I ended up settling for something called an Atari Flashback, which was a simple plug and play system with about a dozen Atari games programmed into it. Fifteen bucks seemed like a bargain for the hours of entertainment that lay ahead of me. Funny thing about those ghosts of pixel past. They get obliterated by the crossed streams of today’s seizure-inducing gamery. Once the candy veneer of my memories got chipped off, the amount of suction the Atari Flashback produced damn near ripped a hole in time. How were we ever captivated by this dreck? Aside from the untouchable classics like Asteroid or Centipede, the rest of the menu was just a random flashing and beeping through the carpal tunnel of frustration with no conceivable objective to be reached other than the realization that I paid $15 to find out my childhood stunk. Thanks flea market. Next time I’ll just settle for the cursed monkey paw.

For those of you who are in a fix as to what to get your dad for Father’s Day, might I recommend the gift of laughter? On Sunday, June 21st @ Union Jack’s in Bethesda, I’m hosting a FREE comedy show. Four of DC’s funniest, Jake Young, Mike Way, Jeff Maurer, and Jon Mumma will be spreading the joy. Show starts at 7:30. Click here for more info.

Hey there ‘Redheads… Thanks for keeping your breath bated as I kept you waiting for another dose of idle nonsense. I better have something remotely resembling something decent for you if I expect you to tolerate this constant tardiness. Well, sit back and enjoy while I broaden the definition of “decent”.

Yeah, unfortunately I don’t have a whole lot to report. I did just get back from a swing through Newport News, VA and one of my favorite clubs, Cozzy’s. Big thanks to Lorain, Karen, Jimmy, and the rest of the great staff down there for making me feel like Norm from Cheers. Not only was I the recipient of generous hospitality, but I got a chance to meet an area comic I had heard nothing but good things about, Hatton Jordan. His girlfriend, Jenn, was the MC for the weekend and he snuck in a guest set on the Saturday late show. The headliner for the weekend was Kevin Lee. Kevin is a prop comic/magician who juggles bowling balls, eats fire, and swallows swords. Pretty much my polar opposite on the comedy continuum. If there was a freak transporter accident during my set, Kevin would be the guy that would finish the show…c’mon my fellow dorks, stay with me…

I, uh…

Good times.

Segue…Apparently, I have a tiny YouTube sensation on my hands. The public’s ravenous search for video train wreckage to gawk at has brought them to a video I posted a couple years ago. I’ve shown you this 8 minute piece of evil before, in the hope that you would better know your enemy, making it easier to spot and thwart. Over the last couple weeks, the hits on this thing have ballooned from a couple hundred to about 5,000. Sign of the apocalypse? Perhaps. For your protection, you may want to view it through a piece of smoked glass. If you experience a dull throbbing pain in your psyche, close the window immediately. Please remove your belt and shoelaces and may God have mercy on your soul…

Those of you who are currently plotting revenge against me for tattooing that dreck on your mind’s eye, you can find me at Tagline’s on Thursday night with Freddie Vernell and Mike Shader.

I know April was dismal in terms of blog quantity. I haven’t been writing much material-wise recently. When I was at the Improv last month, my contribution to the backstage graffiti was, “Jared Stern told pretty much the same jokes…” Well, brace yourselves for another month-long stunt that’ll probably only make it a week. It’s JOKE/BIT/PREMISE/TAG-A-DAY IN MAY. To prime the pump and pick my brain up off the pile of papers it’s been holding down, I’m going to write something in this space every day in May. Something that’ll hopefully provide a jumping off point for some new usable material. Excelsior…or something.

Finally, on a sad note, a belated farewell to Adam Gregory, who passed away last week. Adam was one of the crew from Winchester’s, who started doing stand-up shortly after I did. Those of you up in Baltimore may have had the pleasure of working with him. He had a whispery voice that sounded like an inadvertent Godfather impression. He was a good guy and a funny fellow.